


Hips Don't Lie

by rebeccastceir



Series: SEP Days [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Jack, Bottom Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Drinking, Early Days, Frottage, Gabe doesn't know what hit him, Gabe knows what he wants, Gabe says fuck a lot, Grinding, Jack Knows, Jack knows what he wants, M/M, Power Bottom Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Seduction, Soldier Enhancement Program | SEP (Overwatch), Soldier Enhancement Program | SEP Era (Overwatch), Super aggressive bottom Jack, Top Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, everyone knows, except gabe, implied sex, top gabe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebeccastceir/pseuds/rebeccastceir
Summary: Jack sang like a frog.He didn’t understand art.He was Catholic in that horribly boring and pedantic way that most white people were - numb to all the pleasures of sin, numb to all the fun of repenting for it later.And he had the hips of a Brazilian.It wasn’t fucking fair, Gabe decided.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, reaper76
Series: SEP Days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051943
Comments: 12
Kudos: 82





	Hips Don't Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Here! Have a gratuitous Reaper76 one-shot, since I've been reading so much of them!

Jack sang like a frog.

He didn’t understand art.

He was Catholic in that horribly boring and pedantic way that most white people were - numb to all the pleasures of sin, numb to all the fun of repenting for it later.

And he had the hips of a Brazilian.

It wasn’t fucking _fair_ , Gabe decided.

It absolutely was not fucking _fair_ that a _white boy_ from _Indi-fucking-ana_ had hips that moved like well-oiled ball-bearings, that made Gabe pop a boner every-other fucking second of the day. When he walked by, when they stood in line for anything, Gabe had to forcibly restrain himself from touching them. He _ached_ to graze his fingers over them, to let his palms skim down the dip of Jack's v-line. Between the two of them, Gabe had the booty - and the thighs, to be fucking fair - he had a mix of black and Latino ancestry to thank for both - although Jack’s thighs were so impressively muscular Gabe wanted his head between them one of these days - but Jack’s ass was hard and cute and round and it did its job perfectly.

Which was to sit between Jacks hips and torment Gabe with the fact that he wasn’t touching them.

“You ever gonna git that?” the bartender asked, watching Gabe watch Jack grind, alone, buzzed on 100-proof moonshine, amid half a dozen of their SEP co-guinea pigs.

Gabe grunted, already half hard.

The base had a bar in the corner of the mess hall, and wasn’t _that_ indicative of the SEP as a whole: its own little microcosm, its own theoretically-self-sustaining ecosystem. They’d been given all the condoms and lube they wanted when they arrived, nearly any kind of food, the medicos as curious about their limits as they were. The bar was stocked with high-proof alcohol, about the only thing that got any of them buzzed anymore, and only if they took a bottle with them onto the dance floor. Gabe privately suspected the bartender was a medico too, tasked with keeping an eye on them, and jotting down any interesting reactions. But like all bartenders everywhere, the man had become a de facto therapist -

\- and hey, Gabe decided, downing his fifth shot, maybe he was a _trained therapist_ and the SEP had realized it was easier to get them to talk when they were -

He downed another shot, grabbed the bottle, and headed for the dance floor.

He settled in behind Jack when the blonde’s back was turned, his eyes closed, hips swaying, grinding to a rhythm only he could hear. Gabe could hear it too, as soon as he got closer, and realized Jack had an ear bud in. It was no trouble at all to settle into his rhythm - a few brushes of his chest against Jack’s leaned-back shoulders, to let him know he was there, a light hand against his hip, asking permission, and Jack leaned back against him, ass swaying, finding Gabe’s half-hard erection and settling around it - like it was _home_ , Gabe had to close his eyes, try not to _groan_ \- when Jack’s hips started swinging, teaching him the beat. Gabe ground forward, cock hard _god, so perfect_ between the cleft of Jack’s ass, while Jack’s free hand dropped back to tease Gabe’s hip and thigh, to bring him more solidly into his rhythm. Gabe had his bottle in hand, and he didn’t, _god, no_ , wanna get in Jack’s way, so he put his left hand on Jack’s hip instead, grinding into him.

Jack melted back against him, his back plastered all against Gabe’s chest, head melting back against Gabe’s shoulder, eyes closed. “I was wondering when you were gonna come and join me, _papi,_ ” he murmured, his lips their own kind of sin on Gabe’s jaw.

Gabe’s breath must’ve hitched or something - he felt the smirk against his skin.

“Is that not the right word?” Jack murmured, with the smugness of someone who knew that it was, and that he’d used it correctly. He curled an arm around Gabe’s head. “Stupid beanie,” he grumbled good-naturedly, as he tugged it off and flung it aside, digging his fingers into Gabe’s luscious curls. Then he melted back against Gabe a little further, with a contented sigh, ending any thoughts Gabe might’ve had about whether or not Jack knew it was _him_.

Not that Gabe could really think at the moment. Not with his cock nestled between Jack’s butt cheeks, his fingers brushing all over the flesh between Jack’s cut-off t-shirt and the top of his cargo pants, not with Jack’s fingers in his hair and along his scalp, keeping them plastered together.

Jack slid his hand down to Gabe’s, then slid Gabe’s hand over his stomach - oh god, Gabe would never doubt there was a god again - and - _fuckin’ christ on a cracker_ \- down into his pants. It wasn’t that far - just far enough for Gabe to skim his fingertips into the white-blonde hairs on Jack’s trail - nearly as fine as the rest of him, just coarse enough to be sexy, just soft enough to make him wanna _play with it_ \- just behind his pants button.

Gabe whimpered. “Are - are we gonna bang?” God, he hated how weak and pathetic he sounded, how utterly at this _gringo’s_ mercy he was.

“Mm, _mi ángel Gabriel_ ,” Jack purred, leaning his head back again, adding his tongue to the sin on Gabe’s neck. “ _We’re gonna do so much more than bang_.”

Gabe’s brain definitely shut down at that point.

Sex. This was sex. Vertical sex. Frotting. Whatever. Jack’s stupid pert ass kept his cock hard and wanting, his body warm and solid against Gabe’s chest, hips swaying to music Gabe now recognized was some classic Santana, and Gabe was cursing Jack’s core strength because Jack wasn’t _actually_ resting all that much weight on him, and Gabe _wanted_ _every square inch of Jack_ on him.

“W-when?” Gabe panted.

Jack’s lips nuzzled his throat, fingers sliding down Gabe’s scalp to stroke the back of his neck. “Mmm, I wanna dance, first.”

So they danced. Until Gabe was seeing stars, dizzy from the ongoing erection, and both of them had forgotten their bottles of alcohol, and one or the other of them had unbuttoned Jack’s pants so Gabe could get his hand a little farther in and keep it there, just keeping Jack’s sinful, sinful hips swaying against his own.

Jack kept his head back - though he let Gabe take over nibbling his neck and shoulder - and murmured sweet, filthy things in his ear, in the Spanish they were all being forced to learn - although, from what Gabe’d seen of their homework, they’d never been expected to learn any of _this_ , which meant Jack had studied on his own - which meant, sweet mother of mercy, Jack’d been _planning this_.

Gabe took a big bite of him, right at the point where his shoulder became neck, and moaned softly.

“Are you getting frustrated, _mi ángel_?” Jack drawled, and god damn, no white man's voice should ever be able to do that sexy purr, or combine it with so much goddamn _smugness_.

“Mm-hmm,” Gabe whimpered.

Jack’s fingers stroked him. “Good.” He turned his head and just managed to kiss Gabe’s temple. “Now you know how I’ve been feeling, all these months, waiting for you to get up your courage.” He dropped his hand over Gabe’s and pressed it _down_ , down inside his pants, until Gabe’s fingers were brushing his pubes, feeling wet heat in the tented space beyond. “See?”

Gabe whimpered again, brain frying.

“Ready to go?”

Gabe nodded.

And suddenly Jack’s body heat was gone, only his hand still on Gabe’s, tugging him along. They dropped their half-full bottles at the bar, and Gabe was dimly aware of Jack shooting finger-guns at the bartender with a triumphant wink, and then they were out into the night, the blissfully dark, velvety night, sky dotted with diamonds, and the seductive wailing of Carlos Santana’s guitar still drifting quietly from Jack’s ear.

The walk cleared Gabe’s brain a little bit, his body already clearing out all the alcohol, and he began to wonder if this was really happening, if Jack knew -

Jack started dancing again.

Only this wasn’t simply grinding on him - this was actual _dancing_.

And fuck, he wasn't bad. Like, Gabe’s sister Mia might _actually approve of him, good_.

“Where did you learn to do this?” Gabe wondered, as Jack opened the dormitory door and took a few twisting steps down the hallway.

“Dance class,” he grinned, holding his arms out perfectly as he swooped in and swept Gabe around with him for a few steps. Well, Gabe had taken dance class since he was seven, it was easy to keep up. “Helps with the foot work for football.” He let Gabe spin him. “But there’s _nothin’_ like seeing another boy’s junk in a leotard to convince you that you’re gay, y’know?”

Gabe laughed in spite of himself.

Jack took the opportunity to swoop back and take the lead again, one hand on Gabe’s ribs, his hips circling and pushing. He was smiling, teeth bright, eyes bright, everything bright, fuck, he lit up the dark hallway like a supernova. Gabe was nothing more than his shadow, his head spinning with the way Jack’s body brushed against his.

“Jack, you know this is _me_ , right?” he couldn’t help but ask, afraid of the answer.

Jack must’ve known what he was thinking - fuck, Jack _always_ seemed to know what he was thinking, how had he ever thought he’d hidden his crush? - because his hands were on Gabe’s hips before he’d even finished speaking.

“You mean, do I know I’m using my high school dance class and SEP Spanish to seduce my hot-as-fuck Latino roommate, whom I’ve been lusting over since we got here?”

Gabe’s shoulders met the wall behind him, Jack’s hands still on his hips, grinding his heavy erection against Gabe’s until Gabe’s entire body was on fire and his brain had melted again. “Y-yeah… that.”

The groin-to-groin contact was constant, settling into a rolling sex rhythm that reduced Gabe to mush.

With their hips taking care of themselves, Jack ran his palms slowly up Gabe’s chest, clearly enjoying the feel of everything along the way, trailing fire in their wake. “Mmm, the thought _did_ occur to me,” he smirked.

 _Good_ , was all Gabe could think. It applied to everything.

“Gabe, _mi ángel_ ,” Jack murmured, his eyes going half-lidded with lust. “The doorknob’s in the middle of your back.”

Gabe couldn’t figure out why Jack was telling him this.

“There’s beds on the other side.”

Gabe couldn’t fumble it open fast enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Much as I love cool, sexy, older Gabe, I love Young!Gabe that isn't quite sure when the Jack-train hit him, only that it did.
> 
> The little bit of Spanish is courtesy of Google Translate


End file.
